Monday, December 23, 2013

“I’m curious; what are your long-term goals? Do you have a five-year plan?” he asked as I awkwardly attempted to spear my sushi with chopsticks.

It was nearly the end of 2012 and in the wake of my break-up with Jay, it was one of the first proper dates that I’d been on. The question was normal first date fodder, but I was stumped. The truth was that at 28, with no real job or savings and without a single asset to my name (unless you consider a sizeable vintage dress collection a worthwhile investment), I had no real personal or professional goals.

I only had this one thing:

“I want to travel to 30 countries before I turn 30,” I told him. “I’ll figure out the rest once I’m done that.”

As the words left my mouth, I realized how superficial they sounded. It was a goal that was rooted in white privilege. I had become no better than those rich American women that Helka and I made fun of when we toured through Europe—attempting to collect their silver spoons just to prove that they had been somewhere, without much consideration for where they had actually been.

But in a time of uncertainty, it was the only goal I had. So I focused on that. It was something to work towards.

Thursday, December 05, 2013

On the first day that can truly be called winter, the lineup inside Midland’s downtown food shop, Ciboulette et Cie is surprisingly long. Despite the blowing snow outside, it’s snaking its way from the back freezers stocked with take-home soups, past a reclaimed wooden table and up to the front counter, where customers are eagerly waiting for hot coffee to accompany slices of cake.